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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28269336">Magic Dance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadLesbianClown/pseuds/SadLesbianClown'>SadLesbianClown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Magician AU, They still have real magic though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:47:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28269336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadLesbianClown/pseuds/SadLesbianClown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon and Baz are street performers. Simon does Normal magic tricks. Baz uses actual Magick. Baz thinks they are flirting. Simon thinks they are competing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Winter Holiday Collection 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwontevenwishforsnow/gifts">iwontevenwishforsnow</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on the prompt: how does a partial or none human see the world and try to fit in it </p><p>The prompt will come into play by the end, I promise. </p><p>Happy Holidays Berenice, hope you like it! More chapters will be up soon, I just need to edit :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Simon</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’ve been on the west side of this fountain every day, except Wednsedays and holidays and when it thunderstorms and days when Penny says I need to be somewhere else, from 11 to 17:30, for the past 4 years. Mornings, I work at a cafe down the high street, but from 11 to 17:30 I entertain the people of Watford Park with </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do see the irony in spelling away your dragon wings so you can go do parlor tricks for Normals, right?” Penny used to tell me before I’d leave the apartment each morning. “You can do proper magick, I don’t know why you waste your time with this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because it makes people happy,” I explained. “It does me good to get out. Plus the extra wages are nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nowadays she doesn’t bother questioning it. It’s not that she has changed her mind, she still thinks it’s absurd, but she knows it makes me happy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This morning, she just pats Fezziwig (my rabbit) on the head, as she yarns over a cup of tea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Late night again?” I ask. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods, weary eyed, “deadlines,” she says simply, but I know she was up late cramming out assignments she had due this morning. She’s taking double the classes she took last semester at uni. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pizza, booze, telly?” I ask her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, that sounds good. But no, not tonight. I have to study. What about Tuesday? I only have an english paper due.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Works for me. I better head out, it’s almost 11,” I say, picking up Fezziwig. He doesn’t come out with me every day. I don’t like overworking him. But I like bringing him on days when the camp kids come to the park. They love seeing him in his little cape. I think he looks more like a vampire than a magician in it, to be honest. I do a bit where he makes a tomato go white, like he’s sucked the blood from it, or in this case, juice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I get to the fountain at my normal time, there is already a bloke standing there. I don’t take too much notice, for all I know he’s just another passerby, but then I see a hat in front of him. He picks up a coin from it and starts twiddling it between his fingers. Over and under it goes, weaving its way back and forth. “This is rubbish,” a brutish man says, “do another trick!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bloke tosses the coin to the man, who catches it then throws it away like it’s scolding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi!” he yells, “why’d you do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do what?” the bloke says, walking over to where the coin fell and simply picking it up. “You seem displeased with my act, so I was returning your tip,” he says with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” the brute says, holding out his hand for the coin. The performer drops it into the man’s hand and is no sooner catching it from hitting the pavement. “Ow!” the man yells, “what I just asked you do another-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The performer winks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ohhhhhhhhhhh” the brute lets out with a smile, “I see now, the coin </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> the trick. But how’d you do that without burning yourself?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The performer just gives him a smug look, “a wizard never reveals his secrets.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh this man is good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The brute tosses another 20 pence into the hat and walks away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Care to see a magic trick?” the man asks me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was quite good,” I tell him, “from one magician to another.” The man nods in understanding and tucks the coin into his pocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a special coin!” I say, “I was wondering how you did that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man looks down and back up, “maybe,” he says, “or maybe it was magic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” I hum, “look mate, I’m happy to have another street performer around here, but this is actually my spot,” I say, holding up the rabbit for emphasis. “So if you could move across the fountain, I’d appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Sure, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realize.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No worries. I’m Simon the Magnificent, Mage for short.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face sours, “yeah, I’m not calling you that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I scrunch my nose, “what, you don’t have a performing name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” he shrugs, “just Baz.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright then, Just Baz. Pleasure to meet you, now if you don’t mind I’ve got some work to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steps back and holds out his arms in a sweeping motion; I nod at the gesture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It might be nice to have a friend out here, other than Fezziwig. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Simon</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I should have known it would end like this; in flames. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s out doing me!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every trick I do, he finds a way of doing it better. I burn a piece of paper and return it to its original state and he sets a bloody overcoat aflame! Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>poof </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s back on the shoulders of a businessman with nary a charred sleeve. My regulars are flocking to him like geese to last week’s toast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’ve had half the tips I made last week! Half!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you just use Magick?” Penny asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because! I’ve told you. It wouldn’t be as fun. Not to mention completely illegal! It could jeopardize the entire existence of the world of mages.  Besides… he isn’t magick. I want to beat him at his own game, it wouldn’t count otherwise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s ‘he’?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Baz. I told you about him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That did not happen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sigh, “Yes, Pen. It did. We were in the kitchen? It was morning after your latin exam?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah well, you might have told me then. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need more sleep, I’m starting to think you don’t hear half of the things I tell you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Simon,” she says, cupping my cheek, “I don’t hear a quarter.” She kisses my forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry! You talk a lot. Between you and the voices in my head, I’ve got to tune someone out sometime.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrug, “anyway, Baz is the man shorting your friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s stealing all the bloody tips! I’ve been going to that park for years, he’s been there a week and he’s already causing trouble. This morning he even brought me a cappuccino! That posh prick. I’d be able to buy my own coffee if you picked a different park to work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oooh,” she mocks, “evil man, buying you a coffee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious, Pen. If this keeps up, I might have to move spots.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fight him for it then. Learn some new tricks. Maybe if there’s enough competition, he’ll pack up and leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hum in agreement. “Here! What about this! It’s a mug that turns hot tea cold!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think ice is going to win you any battles Si.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I slink down into the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she says, “maybe you can’t cast spells in front of Normals but maybe you can still use magick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I cock my head, how could I do magick without spells? </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a short update :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Simon</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>No, I could not use magick to beat Baz. However, there was no law saying I couldn’t use magick as </span>
  <em>
    <span>inspiration</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Normal illusions. After that talk with Penny, I dug out my old course work from school and started working out how to imitate rudimentary spells. I figured out how to “levitate” a tea bag by reversing the polarity of magnets. I made Fezziwig a heat resistant cape that I could light on fire. I learned a sleight of hand trick that would allow me to “summon” a long sword. I even found a way of “draining another wizard’s powers;” for some reason whenever I yell “Abracadabra” Baz stops whatever he is doing and looks at me. I can’t explain it, he just does and it seems to amuse people. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Baz</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whenever Simon yells that childish phrase it is accompanied by high arm…flaps… I don’t know what else to call it, but his shirt rides up and I can see the soft of his stomach and it is driving me mad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Simon</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We’ve been at it for weeks. Everytime I try a new trick he comes back the next day with something grander. I then have to spend hours awake that night testing new illusions in response, and back and forth we go in some kind of magic dance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no,” Penny says, one evening as I stumble through the door to our flat, “what’d he do this time?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shed my coat and collapse against the wall, “he flew.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Penny asks, intrigued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He flew. Just half a meter off the ground, but he did it. How can I top that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny shrugs and takes a bite of her apple, I watch as she does so. The tight, leather skin snapping as her teeth bit into it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you drive me to the craft store?” I ask my friend, “I need red paint.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Penny</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thank Merlin for cleaning spells or we would never get our deposit back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took Simon to the store like he’d asked and he filled a trolley with every shade of red paint they sold, a gallon of glue, tape, rolls of paper, sheets of paper, lolly sticks, florist wire and a handful of biscuit packets they had displayed by the counter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When we returned to the flat he dumped the contents of the bag onto our living room floor and wandered into the kitchen and emerged a few moments later shirtless, arms filled with mixing bowls and clingfilm. “Here,” he said, “help me cover these.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The bowls?” I asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, my wings. We’re going to paper maché them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” I nod, picking up the film, “why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to fly,” he explained simply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Many hours later; having set the wing molds, connected with sections with lolly sticks and tape, fallen asleep taping said sections, remembered we had biscuits, painted the whole lot red in a biscuit fueled frenzy, fallen asleep once more, realized we’d spilled an entire bottle of bright red paint on our floors, cleaned the floors, and cleaned ourselves, we had two sets of large, red, dragon wings in our very small, very expensive London flat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yes, I tried them on so we could take a matching wing selfie. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Baz</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s gorgeous. Truly stunning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heavy, red wings fluttering as he perches himself upon the fountain, spitting fire over our heads.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All at once, the entire square became as infatuated with him as I. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over the past few weeks, my efforts only seemed to encourage him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So I put in the last word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Top that, you pompous ass. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I have decided, this week, to try a new strategy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I am not engaging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t go to the park on Wednesday as per usual, but Monday and Tuesday, I took on extra shifts at the cafe. If all goes to plan, he will get bored and be gone by the time I return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I had meant to go to the park today, but then a thunderstorm rolled in, so instead I offered to work a double. Business is always slow when it rains, so it’s a pretty easy day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then I see him through the window. He walks past the shop, then does a double take looking in the window. A smile forms across his face and he opens the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s you!” Baz declares, thankfully there are no other customers for him to disturb as he does so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just on my way to the park to find you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s raining, I never go out when it storms.” I scowl and I clean out the filler basket on the espresso machine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He senses my tone and shrinks a bit. He looks up at the menu instead of speaking, studying it with an intensity which should be reserved for novels and poetry, not a cafe board. He hums in satisfaction when he is done. “Can I have one of those peppermint monstrosities?” he asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The peppermint mocha cookie crumble double shot cold foam cappuccino?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With whipped cream,” he says with a wide smile. “Oh!” he yells, “and one of these.” He holds up a gingerbread cookie shaped like a cat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nod. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And here, let me get you something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d still have to make it myself,” I huff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I can at least pay for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrug and add a hot cocoa to the order. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” I say, setting down the drinks on a table, “you said you were looking for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a sip of his drink, “oh yes, do you want to work together?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to combine our acts? Work together?” He props up his chin with his arm and looks at me doe eyed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would I do that?” I question, leaning the chair back to put distance between us. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because we’re having fun?” he asks, confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean fun? You’ve been running me out of business!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face contorts, “I thought…” He looks almost mournful. “We were dancing. Everytime I did a new trick you’d respond. I thought it was a give and take.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh there was sure a lot of taking going on; you </span>
  <em>
    <span>taking</span>
  </em>
  <span> all the tips.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls back from the table and looks me over, “I just thought… we were the same.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>same</span>
  </em>
  <span>’?” I snap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Magick. I thought we understood each other. Two Mages entertaining a Normals.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s me leaning forward this time, “what do you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mages?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How did you know! I haven’t been casting!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <b>haven’t</b>
  <span>? I could smell your magic! You couldn’t smell mine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been using real Magick! But that’s illegal!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And those </span>
  <em>
    <span>wings</span>
  </em>
  <span> weren’t? Merlin Simon, I know we have both been playing fast and loose with the law but that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those were paper mache…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” He pauses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nod. “I’ve never done magick in front of the Normals. I just use it… as inspiration. I’ve got the real thing tucked under my sweater.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a wicked grin. “You’ll have to show me one day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I frown, “ I can’t believe you were using magick that whole time. I smelled smoke, but I thought that was the kebab kart. Of course you were getting better crowds than me! I can’t compete with real magic using cheap card tricks.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He seems far too amused by all of this. “Actually,” he says, “you got more of an audience than me last weekend. I counted. It’s your charm I can’t compete with. You're a fit bloke, and with those eyes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Baz</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about my eyes?” he asks, almost defensively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious? They are gorgeous. Could get lost in them. It’s no wonder people don’t notice what you do with your hands, they’re too focused on those big blues you got there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” he pauses and looks down, “you weren’t fighting me for the fountain square?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley, he is thick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I look down, hiding a soft smile. “No,” I tell him, “I kind of thought we were flirting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I raise my shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He seems to ponder this for a moment, his cup of chocolate tilting dangerously to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says, having made some kind of decision.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he reaffirms, a smile growing across his face as he sets down his cup to look at me. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Baz</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure this is a good idea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the next step,” Simon says, adjusting the lapel of his red sequin suit. “Here we can do bigger tricks. We won’t have to deal with all those park permits anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. Did we really have to move the act to Vegas though?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles at me, “you look good in those pants.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re flattery won’t work on me Snow. The US is still awful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he kisses me cheek, “but it’s less awful when we have each other.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hear the announcer’s force echo through the theatre beyond the curtain, “the magical husband duo Simon the Magnificent and,” there’s a pause as he reads the cue card, “Just Baz!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here we go,” he takes my hand and lights go on.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Annnnnd fin. Hope you liked it Berenice! Thank you all for reading.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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